There Is A Light That Never Goes Out
by Froody
Summary: "You don't know me at all," Lily murmured into his lips, and shifted her weight without warning, sending them stumbling backwards until James's back hit wall. "You think you do, but you don't." L/J
1. Soft and Only

James knew Lily liked him. He knew it. It wasn't exactly easy to _see _her affection, but as James spent quite a bit of time gazing at her, he had a better shot at it than most. He saw it in her face whenever she caught him watching her, almost as if a scowl wasn't her instinctive reaction. He saw it in the way she riled up around him. He heard it colour her voice whenever she found reason to yell at him – and that was often enough.

Other people couldn't see it, but they just weren't paying enough attention.

Even after six long years on the wrong end of Lily's temper, James just knew it, and so he had to hope that one day, Lily would know it too.

* * *

Sixth Year came accompanied by stress and pressure and the same old opportunities to send Filch around the bend. Whatever else it was, this year was a marked improvement to Fifth Year. No matter how full of homework, or how brutal the detentions, every day was a little sunnier than it had been the year before.

There was a very simple reason for this.

"You going to finish that?" asked Sirius, grabbing James' last crumpet and stuffing it in his mouth without waiting to hear an answer.

Very calmly, James folded up his newspaper, dipped one end in a nearby pot of jam, and used it to whack Sirius neatly over the head. While Sirius spluttered and stood up, waving sticky hands at the Professors' table in an attempt to incriminate James, Remus reached over and snatched the paper away. He unfolded it and began to read, ignoring the jam, ignoring Sirius, and generally behaving in a very Remus-like fashion.

Peter, who had been keeping out of the way of the fuss, reached for another piece of toast. James's eyes slid to the peanut butter daubing his pointed nose. This was all normal breakfast behaviour – blissfully normal.

James, kicking Sirius lightly in the back of the shin, grinned. The Marauders were finally back to normal, Mischief Managed, and none too soon. Last year had been hell for all of them, the pack torn apart by one night and one thoughtless blunder that could have destroyed everything. It had changed them all, for better or worse.

These days, James left most of the plotting and scheming to the other three. For one reason or another, pranks didn't seem quite as amusing as they used to. He regretted a lot of stuff he'd done in the past – picking fights and showing off, acting more like a Slytherin than a Gryffindor had any right to. As someone had once graciously pointed out, he'd been playing the arrogant, bullying toerag for years. It had been very difficult for James to recognise this fact, but when he did, determination set in: James Potter would be an arrogant, bullying toerag no more.

He was now merely a toerag, and he was working his way up from there. He still had a fat head by all accounts – couldn't help his nature – but James was determined, and James was as proud as any Gryffindor ever had been.

The others were still working through various stages of their own. James didn't quite know what had restored the Marauder dynamic, but he suspected they'd all found motivation to grow up a bit during the holidays.

James, for one, had started reading the papers. That was enough to put anyone off their game. James could see the front page headline from where he sat if he looked across the table and several bodies to the left. Obviously, Remus's paper was more accessible, but James preferred to push his glasses up his nose and strain his eyes. The headline was much more powerful when held in that particular pair of pale hands.

Sirius sat back down, having unsurprisingly failed to capture the attention – or sympathy – of the professors. James knew this because he was subsequently jabbed in the side. Normally, he would have jabbed straight back, and much harder, too, but he didn't feel like it today.

"You're losing it, Prongs," said Sirius, folding his arms across his chest and tilting his seat back on two legs with practised ease. "Every time I think you've hit the bottom of the cauldron, you go and become even more pathetic."

James looked up at this, slightly wounded. "Cheers, mate," he said, feeling that Sirius was being more than a little hypocritical after all the fuss and moping last year. "You know I can never stop until I've broken a record."

"But really," Sirius continued, ignoring him, "you stare at Evans whenever she's in the room. You're at risk of becoming a certified stalker, and then what use will you be to the Marauders?"

"Why do you think I came up with the idea for the map?" said James with a hint of a grin. "So I could watch you ponce around the castle all day?" (He was mostly joking.)

"Keep your voice down," hissed Remus from behind his paper. "The map stays under wraps, got it?"

James gave him a nod and a wink; for some reason, Remus believed that their rather nifty map constituted several serious breaches of privacy, and might get them in trouble if discovered.

"I am going to forget you said that, Prongs," said Sirius, "because if I thought about it too much, I might start feeling bad for poor Evans."

"Why?" asked a new voice, and the four boys looked up to see poor Lily Evans standing above them, paper in her hand and scowl on her face. Her glare promptly focussed on James, who felt validated by the attention. "What have you done now, Potter?"

"Nothing a prefect should worry about," said Sirius quickly, and Remus propped his paper higher, sinking into his seat.

"That means so much coming from you," said Lily, and James, disheartened by the diversion of her ire, was pleased when it returned to him next moment. "Potter, you will tell me what's going on or spend Friday night cleaning out the school toilets with your precious Cleansweep 5."

"May I ask a question before deciding?" he asked, successfully suppressing the urge to ruffle a hand through his hair.

Lily glowered her assent.

"Will you be taking Friday detention?"

Without missing a beat, Lily walloped James with the _Daily Prophet_ and stalked away. He looked up, one hand rubbing the back of his head, and grinned dazedly at his mates.

"Serves you right," said Sirius, a look of disbelief on his face. "I can't believe you're smiling, Prongs – or is that the closest form of contact you've ever had with Evans?"

"No," said James, "she slapped me once," and his good spirits lasted all morning, even while failing an impromptu Divination test. Lily Evans liked him, he was sure of it. He hummed quietly to himself as he traced a finger around the bottom of his china cup. _L.E._, he wrote, and received bottom marks when the professor asked him to read his tealeaves.

* * *

James spent Friday night in detention after all – and despite all odds, Lily was there to supervise. He had walked into the dank and scungy bathroom expecting Professor Binns to totter distractedly in and waffle out instructions for the requisite three hours of detention. Instead, he'd pushed open the door to find Lily leaning against the wall, Transfiguration text in hand. She had straightened with a scowl at the sight of him.

James grinned.

"Lily," he said by way of greeting, letting the door creak shut behind him. "I didn't think you'd make it." James loved the sound of Lily's name. He didn't know why he had called her 'Evans' all these years; Lily was beautiful, Lily was perfect.

"Potter," Lily said shortly, and didn't seem to take the same pleasure in his name. "You're late."

"You're wrong," said James apologetically, pointing to his watch, and, more specifically, to the minute hand, which sat slightly to the left of twelve.

Lily glanced down at her own wrist, and her frown deepened into a groan of frustration. "But it feels like I've been studying for hours," she said, dropping the text to the floor. She glared at James. "You make it all look so easy in class."

"It's not that–" James began, and then stopped himself hastily. Lily was not Peter; if he was going to get anywhere with this, he'd have to scrounge up some subtlety. While Lily waited, he leant his broom against the wall, then bent down and picked up her textbook from the floor. She accepted it when he straightened, a quiet sort of frown on her face.

"The theory does help," James said with the least amount of pretension possible. Six years in Sirius's company had conditioned James with a certain pride. He had always presented himself as off-the cuff brilliant: all genius, no work. Secretly, however, he studied hard behind the scenes, far more than anyone beyond his dormitory might expect. He worked industriously for his marks, and Transfiguration honestly interested him. Animagus theory was not for the casual scholar, when it came down to it.

Accordingly, Lily looked disbelieving. "You've read today's chapter?"

James nodded. He'd memorised it during the holidays – before Sirius had crashed at his house, of course. "It's easy to impose your will on inanimate objects. Animal transfiguration are much harder, and require more precision in the wand work."

James shifted uncomfortably as Lily stared at him for several moments. "Right," she said finally, looking down at the cover of the book in her hands.

James gestured to the book and, hoping against hope, cleared his throat. "I could show you the wand movements, if you like. Tutor you. If you want." It wouldn't work. It couldn't work. It couldn't be so easy, could it?

It couldn't, of course. After a minute of evident indecision, Lily's mouth tightened and she flushed bright red. It clashed rather beautifully with her fiery hair. "Don't be stupid, Potter. I can do it myself. I'm not just a Muggleborn idiot."

James stared. "I didn't say–"

Lily interrupted him immediately, extending one cool finger in the direction of the nearest cubicle. "You're not getting out of your detention, you know," she said, slightly less heat in her voice.

"I still can't believe you agreed to supervise my detention," said James as he took Sirius' broom from where it had stood propped against the wall.

"Didn't have a choice," Lily's voice echoed over the cubicle wall. It almost sounded like she was smiling. "I fought tooth and nail to avoid it, but Remus fought harder, the prat."

James beamed; he'd have to remember to thank Moony for that one. He'd buy out Honeydukes in chocolate. His friends were brilliant, and he was bloody lucky to have them. He swirled Sirius' broom around the toilet bowl, ignoring the perfectly good toilet brush sitting close at hand.

A slight noise made James start, and he twisted his neck around to peer behind him. Lily stood at the cubicle door, looking down at him with an almost sheepish expression on her face.

"I suppose you don't have to use the broom," she said abruptly, and then walked back to her book. James gazed after her, practically buoyant, broomstick still plunged halfway down the toilet. She cared. Nobody could say she didn't care, and if they did, they were terribly misinformed.

"Would it make you happier if I did?" he called cheekily, and heard the distinct sound of a stifled laugh.

"Maybe," she replied.

For the next three and a half hours, James swept out every single toilet in the place, making loads of unnecessary broom noises and winning Lily's amusement for the first time since First Year.

James was nothing if not determined; it took more than Lily offered to set him from his course. He would be her tutor. He would make her smile. And soon, as soon as he could manage it, he would make her realise that she liked him, for better or worse.


	2. Lost and Lonely

_You are not some saint who's above_

_Giving someone a stroll through the flowers –_

_You've got so much more to dream of._

--Girl Sailor, The Shins_

* * *

_

It was a good thing James didn't need to concentrate during lessons. He had established something of a routine over the years, where he would saunter in with Sirius's arm slung over his shoulders, toss his books onto the desk nearest the back of the classroom, take out a quill, chew on it, and allow his gaze to drift to the desk immediately in front.

This system had worked for three years, but James had recently decided it was time for a change. Fittingly, Mondays began with Transfiguration.

"Did anyone find Chapter Three difficult?" Peter asked anxiously, pouring over the heavy textbook as they strolled through the corridors to class. "I didn't understand it at all–"

"Did anyone _read_ Chapter Three?" interrupted Sirius, slinging his arm about James's shoulders and winking at Remus, who looked, as always, indignant. "Apart from Moony, of course. And we all know Prongs doesn't know how to read."

"And we all know Padfoot is a lazy git," said James, pinching him in the side. Lily happened to be walking directly ahead, and he seized upon this opportunity. "Actually, I thought Chapter Three was fairly difficult, Wormtail."

"You did?" said Peter, looking nonplussed, while Sirius turned and stared quizzically at James as they walked. "You never have before."

James smiled to himself as they entered the classroom; if he had surprised his friends, he'd surprised Lily as well, he was sure of it. Her shoulders had tensed for a moment at the sound of his voice. Shaking off Sirius's arm, he strode right past his normal desk and took a seat next to a habitually nervous Slytherin, Stebbins.

"Oi," called Sirius, and James turned, lifted a hand, and gave the secret signal for 'shut it, I'll tell you later'. In response, Sirius offered a secret signal of his own in the form of a drawn out raspberry.

"Prat," said James to Stebbins, who jerked his head as if in agreement, and proceeded to gnaw away at his fingernails. James raised an eyebrow, turned to the front, and unscrewed his inkbottle. Then, for the first time since First Year, he began to listen to the Transfiguration professor. Apparently they had a test on Wednesday. Well, it wouldn't be a surprise, for once.

Immediately after class, James headed straight for his friends, grabbing Remus and Peter around the shoulders. He refused to allow himself a glance in Lily's direction; he was breaking the routine.

Sirius cuffed him about the head. "Found a new best man, have you, Prongs?" he said loudly, making a show of glaring at Stebbins, who scurried off in alarm.

"I finally tired of you lot, didn't I?" said James, tossing his head.

"Did I see you raise a hand in class?" said Remus, an air of incredulity in his voice. "I think I must have passed out for a few seconds."

"I think I actually learnt something," said James very seriously. "I just figured out why Sirius turned into a chihuahua first time around."

As Sirius dragged him into an impromptu wrestling match, James laughed along with the others, dissolving into breathless wheezes as his ribs were attacked.

"Should – have – called – you – Snuffles!" he panted as he stumbled along the corridor, Sirius on his tail. "So – cute –"

"Potter!"

James cast Sirius aside immediately. Still heaving for breath, he straightened his glasses and turned around to offer Lily an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about…"

He stopped short. Lily looked awful, and coming from him, that was saying something. Her hair was a dark red tangle, as if she'd spent Transfiguration teasing it out with anxious fingers. Her green eyes blazed, highlighted by the dark smudges beneath them. Lily looked a mess, but she lifted her chin even as he stared at her, hands clamping tightly around her book bag.

"Are you all right, Lily?" he said quietly, pushing away from the others, who lingered uncertainly behind him.

Lily's jaw tightened, but she didn't answer him. From the corner of his eye, James saw the unwelcome figure of Snape hovering in the background. He kept glancing towards Lily, looking almost worried. James was certain Lily hadn't seen him, and was even more certain that he didn't want his friends to see the slimy git.

"I'll catch up with you lot in Charms," he called without turning from Lily, and heard the answering clatter of departing footsteps. Lily, who hadn't moved an inch, began to fidget at the handle of her bag. Snape had left. They were now alone in the corridor.

Somehow, James didn't feel the least bit awkward as he stepped closer to Lily. Instead, he felt elated. Despite rejecting James in all manner of ways over the years, Lily finally wanted – or needed – to talk to him. She liked him. He knew it.

"What's up, Evans?" he said casually, reaching out and gently unclamping her fingers from the handle of her book bag. He slung the heavy bag over his arm and stuck his hands in his pockets as he waited for Lily to say something.

He had never seen Lily Evans act this way before. He'd obviously seen her when she was upset – often enough, James had been the cause – but Lily had never looked so vulnerable in her life. She had certainly never shied away from an opportunity to yell at James.

As if to confirm his thoughts, Lily suddenly met his eyes and scowled.

"What are you planning to do to Stebbins?" she said in a dangerous voice. "You've never sat with him before."

James shrugged, thrown by the unexpected accusation. He was frankly surprised that Lily knew where he normally sat in Transfiguration. "Just felt like a change, that's all," he said, earning a disbelieving glare. "No, really. I've nothing against Stebbins, honestly."

"You expect me to believe that?" Lily snapped, fists clenching at her sides. "You must think I'm completely thick."

Extremely taken aback, James blinked behind his spectacles and tried to get a grasp on what he was supposed to have done wrong. Something had clearly upset Lily, and she appeared to be taking it out on him. Things could be worse. At least she had known who to turn to.

"I don't think you're thick," said James, although he did in fact consider Lily to be surprisingly obtuse for a near goddess. After all, she was accusing him of plotting against Stebbins, the most boring and Hufflepuff-like of all Slytherins. Even the Arrogant Toerag James of yesteryear wouldn't have bothered.

"Then tell me why you feel like a change all of a sudden," she said, and something in her face crumbled. Her green eyes hung on James, even as they welled up. "Why does everything have to change now?"

James froze, horrified. He didn't know what to do with tears. He had no experience in this area. What had he done? Had he said something wrong? He hefted the book bag more securely on his shoulder, and watched in agony as a tear curled its way down Lily's cheek.

Lily, looking absolutely mortified, swiped a hand across her face and turned on her heel. James came back to life as she hurried off down the corridor, cursing himself and his endless stupidity.

"Lily!" he shouted, but heard nothing in reply. "Stupid, bloody wanker," he muttered to the empty corridor, "should be in Hufflepuff with Stebbins, you unbelievable moron."

He should have comforted her or something, that's what Remus would say. Sirius would have suggested something else entirely, but then again, maybe that's why Sirius didn't have a girlfriend.

Although he had no idea what he could possibly have done to make Lily cry – apart from menacing her precious Stebbins – James felt awful, and entirely responsible. Furthermore, he had her bag. He sprinted after Lily, but when he reached the end of the corridor, she had disappeared.

He swore loudly, and then had a stroke of inspiration.

James raced up to Gryffindor Tower, threw himself under his bed and summoned the map. He unfolded the scrap of parchment and touched his wand lightly to the centre.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

It was at least half true, anyway.

A spider's web of lines bled out from the centre of the parchment, eventually branching out into Remus's finest handwriting. James stared at it proudly for a moment, and then threw himself into the task of finding Lily.

"Show me, show me, show me," he muttered to himself, prodding at the map with his wand, and hissed with annoyance when great curly words suddenly appeared on its smooth surface.

'_Mr Padfoot would like to remind James Potter that stalkers never prosper, particularly not where redheads are concerned._'

James cursed the day he had managed to convince the others that personalised notes would be a worthy addition to the Marauder's Map. He also cursed Sirius for being an obnoxious prat – even through the medium of magic.

'_Mr Wormtail fears for the innocence of young girls everywhere, and would recommend trying the Quidditch stadium._'

James congratulated himself for his inspired idea to include the creators' voices in the map, and found Lily's dot soon after that. Curiously, it seemed she was settled at the far end of the pitch.

Without any further hesitation, James slung Lily's book bag back over his shoulder, shoved the map in his pocket and headed for the door. Mr Sodding Padfoot could say what he liked; James was not a stalker. He just couldn't let Lily run off miserable without trying to do something about it. Perhaps his Gryffindor chivalry was finally seeping through.

He found her exactly where the map had indicated, sitting halfway up the Quidditch stand nearest Hagrid's hut. Engrossed in what looked like a letter, she didn't even notice James until he was standing above her. She gasped, and James was relieved to see that she had stopped crying.

"What are you doing here?" she said faintly, slamming the parchment facedown in her lap. James eyed it with curiosity, then turned to more pressing matters, such as formulating a response that seemed less insane than the truth.

"I thought you might like this," he said, holding the book bag before him like a peace offering. "You accidentally left it with me several minutes ago."

"You must think I'm mad, running away like that," she said, crimson flooding into her cheeks as she shoved the bag under her seat.

"Never," said James. "Girls run away from me all the time."

Lily's face fell; this was apparently the wrong thing to say. James wished he could take it back. He was sure Sirius would have been able to carry it off with his haughty bloody handsomeness.

"How did you even find me?" Lily said, scowling down at the letter. "Everyone's in class. Nobody saw me come down here."

James slipped into the seat next to Lily, and sidestepped her question with admirable subtlety. "Did you want to talk to me after Transfiguration? You seemed a little upset."

"I was going to ask you to help me revise for the test," she said, hackles raised. She turned and glared at James. "I didn't ask you to come and find me. I wanted to be alone."

James, feeling helpless, made to leave, but Lily's hand clamped down on his arm. He sat back down with a thump.

"What's wrong, Lily?" he said, staring out at the Quidditch green below. He didn't know what she expected him to do. All he wanted was for her to cheer up and agree to run away with him and have a pack of triplets for him to educate in the ways of Magical Mischief Making, but he didn't know how to make her happy.

Lily's hand tightened momentarily, and then went slack. "It's nothing," she said, her expression and clear lack of sleep contradicting her words.

"It's something to me," James said simply, forcing her to meet his eyes. "So tell me."

"Fine." She drew a deep breath, and then gestured to the letter. "It's my sister."

"Gillyweed? Is she all right?"

"Petunia, idiot," said Lily, breaking into an involuntary smile that quickly soured. "Yes, she's fine. She's just become engaged to some awful man I've never met."

"Called Stebbins?" James guessed with a sudden burst of inspiration.

Lily hit him hard in the arm. "Of course not," she said, "it's a Vernon Dursley, or something like that. Works with a drill company. I've never met him, you know." Her voice darkened, became bitter. "I've never even heard about him before."

"Ah," said James, beginning to understand the situation. "She didn't mention him."

"Not once," said Lily softly. "She never writes to me. And we used to be so close." As she stared at the letter, she seemed to come back to herself, and turned to James with a frown. "But it's not like you care, is it? I don't even know why I'm telling you this."

"That's not fair," said James. "It's because of my good loo – oh, look, I'm sorry. I'm trying very hard not to be a prat, you know."

"I know," said Lily, and she really did smile this time. "Are you seriously trying to improve yourself, Potter? I saw you put up your hand in class today."

"Yes, Remus almost died," said James. He shifted uncomfortably. "And yeah. I am. But I'm already halfway there, Lily – I'm not the same person I was last year."

"I know," said Lily again, her hands tearing at the letter in her lap. Without thinking about it, James placed his hand on top of hers to stop the fidgeting. Both of them looked down at the same time, equally startled.

"Er, I'm, er–" James began, snatching his hand away very guiltily, but Lily shook her head at him, eyes sharpened with sudden ire.

"Stop that," she snapped, hand frozen atop the letter.

"I'm so sorry," James said desperately, feeling the world collapse in his chest. "Lily, I–"

"Just stop," Lily repeated, and brought that very same hand to James's left cheek. James forgot how to breathe as Lily pulled him down and pressed her lips hard against his. It was cold, it was strange, it was a miracle, and almost sooner than James could bear it, shocked as he was, the alien softness of her mouth was withdrawn, and he could do nothing more than stare into furious green before it flashed away.

"Lily?" he breathed, hands hovering by his seat, entire body flooded with adrenaline.

Lily was standing, pulling her bag from beneath the seat, yanking impatiently as the handle became caught on something.

"Lily?" he repeated as she finally tugged it free.

"Evans!" he shouted as she stormed off down the stairs without a word, hair tossed about by the rising wind. "You like me," he said quietly, and forced his legs to move.

He stood and stared after Lily as she jogged back to the castle. She had kissed him – kissed _him_ – and it was all absurdly beyond his wildest dreams. This was clearly the best day of his life, but in the end, he'd prefer it to be the best of Lily's.

He touched a hand to his lips. She liked him. But did she know it yet?

* * *

**A/N: **Story title from the song of the same name by The Smiths. Chapter title from "Just Like Heaven" by The Cure. Hope you enjoyed this one. :)


	3. Strange as Angels

When James drifted into the Gryffindor common room, three pairs of eyes immediately fixed on him.

"She kissed you," said Sirius promptly, then swore. He knocked his chessboard to the ground, stood up, and threw his arms around James, who hugged him back without much enthusiasm. "I don't know how, I don't know why, but I knew you'd get her one day, mate."

Remus looked calm, though far from displeased. "It wasn't all fairy lights and roses," he guessed, placing his rook down where the chessboard used to be. (The rook made a rather noisy fuss about desertion and treachery that they all ignored.)

James shook his head.

"How was it?" asked Peter. He jiggled his hands around in his lap, looking like he wasn't sure whether to be ecstatic or upset.

"I don't know," said James, shoving a grinning Sirius away. Honestly, he didn't feel like discussing it with anyone.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Sirius demanded, looking very put out. "You've been dreaming about this for six years, Prongs – don't tell me you can't find the adjectives now."

"It was…" James hesitated.

"What?" said Peter impatiently, scuffing his feet along the floor. Even Remus was sitting up in his seat, staring at James as if waiting for the floodgates to burst open.

James took in their avid faces and, for the first time in his life, found that he didn't want to talk about Lily. It all seemed rather more private now.

"Angry," he said shortly.

"Angry," repeated Sirius, looking very much like he wanted to expound on this topic. "Merlin's lacy knickers, you've been drinking liquid lu–"

"She stormed off right after," said James, who was staring at his feet.

It was Remus who broke the ensuing silence. "So it went better than expected, then?"

Sirius let out a surprised snort of laughter as James's head shot up. "You bastard!" he yelped. "You – unexpected – bastard!"

"James is alive," Sirius sniggered, "so it definitely went better than _I _expected."

"I didn't expect at all," said Peter, turning up his pointed nose, and the three of them fell over themselves laughing.

James stood at the centre of this display and tried very hard to hate them all, but a grin was already starting to crack onto his face.

"James is about to cry," he said wryly, and Sirius stood up and clapped him on the back.

"That's the spirit," Sirius said, and Peter and Remus nodded from the floor. "Girls love that emotional rubbish. Evans will fall back upon your pathetic lips in no time, and soon it'll turn into a perpetual cycle of kissing and crying."

"And that," said James, sinking into an armchair, "is my cue to _avada kedavra_ myself."

"Cheer up, Prongs," said Remus, pulling himself up to lean back against the sofa. "This is the best day of your life. And who knew it would come so soon?"

"Yeah, it's only been six years," Sirius grinned. "Time flies, eh? I tell you what, I'm going to ace the next Divination exam. Obviously Hell's about to freeze over."

James shook his head slowly as the others turned away at last, getting to the task of resurrecting the chessboard before all the pieces ran off. Best day of his life? Not yet.

He touched his mouth with a distracted hand. Lily Evans had kissed these lips, and it had been hard and soft and incredible and _voluntary_ – but James would not be satisfied until he knew why. He wanted to hear it. He wanted to listen to Lily Evans's beautiful voice declaring her ardent teenage like for him.

"Wormtail just got my bishop," said Sirius, disbelief clear in his tone. "Wormtail's winning; Prongs gets unbelievably lucky; Evans goes mental – is there nothing left to believe in?"

"I believe you should shut up now," Remus hissed as the portrait creaked shut over at the common room entrance. James whipped his head around so fast that his glasses slipped off one ear. Holding the frames to his face, he stared openly as a very red Lily walked over in their direction.

The Marauders fell into deadly silence, though James could _hear_ Sirius's struggle to suppress a catcall.

She stopped a mere metre from James's armchair. He looked up at her flushed face and momentarily forgot how to breathe. Lily didn't look like someone who had just experienced a romantic epiphany. Her jaw was entirely too set.

"Potter," she said stiffly, and jerked her head towards the opposite, emptier corner of the room.

James stood without a word, shoving his glasses back into position. He wiped sweaty hands on his robes and studiously avoided looking at his friends. Sirius landed a cheeky slap on his behind as he passed by, but James couldn't find it within himself to turn around and whack him upside the head. All he could do was follow Lily and hope against hope.

"Lily," he blurted as soon as they were out of earshot.

Lily, who had started talking at the same instant, fell silent. She averted her eyes, refusing to allow James to catch them.

"Lily," he repeated more quietly, voice strained. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," came the response. Lily shifted where she stood, cheeks red as the curtains. "Nothing's going on. I thought you should know that."

James went cold. "Hang on," he said, reaching out for Lily's forearm. His hand brushed along soft skin raised with goose bumps, and lingered by the heat for the second's pause before Lily pulled her arm away.

"It was a mistake," she muttered, meeting his eyes with obvious reluctance. "A really stupid mistake. I was upset. And you wouldn't stop, you wouldn't stop being…" Her voice faltered into silence, eyes wide and almost pleading.

"What, Lily?" said James, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Being what? Nice to you?"

"You've never been nice," said Lily, making to step around James. He moved and blocked her path. She growled in frustration. "You say you're changing, but I don't believe it."

"Believe it," said James, raising his arms and holding them stretched out at his sides. "What, you want me to prove it? I'll prove it to you, Lily. I'll do whatever you want."

"Then move," said Lily, trying to edge her way around his arms.

James moved. His chest moved rapidly as Lily half-ran up the staircase leading to the girls' dormitory. He lowered his arms and then raised them immediately, pressing fists against the sides of his head. He stood there and gazed at the staircase, waiting for Lily to come back down.

Next minute, James found his hands being pried away from his skull by his friends. Sirius was near fuming.

"Who does she think she is?" he snarled at the staircase, giving James a rough shove of solidarity.

"Leave it," said James, any traces of good humour utterly disapparated.

"Does she even know what this means to you?" Sirius continued, not listening. He was being terribly, uncharacteristically astute, and James wished to Merlin that he'd stop. "This isn't like all those other times. Something actually happened. She kissed you. She can't just run away."

"I said, leave it," James snapped, and marched his way across the common room, ignoring the abnormal hush.

"She's not even worth it," he heard Peter say as he reached the staircase, quickly followed by a shushing noise from Remus. Collapsing on his bed, James tried very hard to agree with Peter, and frustration led him much closer to this conclusion than he had ever managed before. He closed his eyes against the mocking evening light and tried to forget the feel of lips on his, the softness of her skin.

He couldn't. This was the worst day of his life, and James skipped dinner just to avoid the inevitable tragedy. He couldn't risk seeing Lily. In all probability, he'd just collapse at her feet and beg for another chance. Of course, he'd tried that before, but this time it wouldn't be a hilarious spectacle for the Great Hall to laugh at.

James had been so full of hope just hours ago. Forget the kiss. He had always known Lily belonged with him. He had always known she would kiss him. And now she had, and she still refused to admit she liked him.

Well, there was always that crying thing Sirius had suggested. Maybe he'd give it a try at breakfast.

* * *

At breakfast, James sat slumped beneath his own personal storm cloud, barely hearing the voices that chirped away around him. He stared at the bowl of porridge in front of him and pictured his death. He would drown, drown in slightly overcooked porridge, and she wouldn't even care.

"Don't fall in, mate," said Sirius in an uncharacteristically cheerful voice, slapping a hand down on his shoulder. James rewarded him with a baleful glare.

"It'd be a terrible way to go," said Peter, craning his neck and peering down at James's bowl. "Look, it's all gluggy today. The house-elves never get the oats right."

"Try the bacon," Remus suggested, pushing a large platter across the table, a sacrifice that touched even James, wretched though he was. "It'd be much nicer to drown in bacon, you'd think."

James gazed down at the leathery strips and thought about this.

"Effort," he croaked finally, eliciting pensive nods from the others. "It'd take too much effort, chaps. Just pass me the jug of pumpkin juice – cheers – and I'll see if I can shove my head inside."

"Nope," said Remus shortly afterwards. "I think we could all see that one coming."

"Well, look who's coming now," said Sirius in a darker voice, and James tried very hard to keep his eyes on his bacon. When he failed, his gaze snapped to Lily as if magically magnetised (which would be a very useful charm indeed). Oddly, she appeared to be enraptured in her friend's cup of tea. Her face was all pink, and James wished she'd stop doing that, because it made her look simply too lovely to bear.

"She was looking at you," Peter said, and the others sighed.

"Don't encourage the disease," Sirius groaned. "Let's just focus on our breakfast and then get along with our normal lives."

"No," said James, and everything was suddenly loud and clear and roaring in his ears. "No. Don't want my normal life. I want Lily. Evans!"

Several conversations stuttered to a halt around them as James scraped his chair back, stood, and crossed his arms across his chest. He glared across the table at Lily, waiting until her unwilling eyes met his.

"What?" she asked in a strangely defensive tone, toying with a limp piece of toast.

"You kissed me yesterday."

Several people gasped along the Gryffindor table. ("Here we go," muttered Remus.)

"And?" said Lily, scowling at her toast.

"And it meant something. Tell me it didn't."

He'd had enough. Lily could lie to the world, she could lie to herself, but James couldn't stand it if she lied to him any longer. Maybe she was the one who needed to change.

When a significant amount of time had elapsed without a response, James uncrossed his arms and gripped the back of his seat. He bent forward, ignoring his friends and ignoring the world. He could feel a slow, burning temper coming on.

"You've always been so bloody righteous, Lily," he said softly, nails biting into the wooden chair. "So fair, so noble – so completely hypocritical."

"Prongs," said Sirius, a note of warning in his voice, but James took no notice.

"'Just stop', you said," James continued, seeing nothing but Lily, nothing but Lily and her frightened green eyes. "But you couldn't tell me why, though you've always been so very clear when telling me off in the past. How about you get off your high hippogriff and start listening to yourself, Lily? Don't listen to me, don't look at me, don't bloody _kiss_ me – just figure out what you want."

_Please figure it out_, he added silently. Breathing deeply, he raised a shaking hand to his hair and ruffled it without thinking. He had always worked so hard to appear cool and unflappable in front of Lily. Well, sod it. He'd open his bleeding heart.

"I thought – I thought we had something. We had something out there on the stands. Just for a second. Maybe that was the first time you saw me as a person, Lily. I can't keep brushing out toilets with my broomstick to make you laugh."

"That was _my_ –" Sirius interrupted heatedly before yelping. James imagined someone – possibly several someones – had kicked him under the table, but didn't turn to look. His eyes were driving everything he had into Lily in a last ditch effort to make her understand.

"I like you, Lily. And when I say like, I mean love, but I'm trying to limit the humiliation this is going to cause for me tonight in the dormitory. And I'm scared you'll hate me for it."

Too much? Sirius would think so. Remus would probably think so too. Hell, Celestina Warbeck would probably vomit into her cauldron full of hot, strong love (whatever that even meant), but this was it. James felt physically incapable of carrying on this bloody two-sided charade.

"So let me know," he said, releasing the chair, releasing his hair, grabbing some toast off Peter's plate and backing away. "Soon, please. I think I'm going mental."

He tore his eyes from Lily's frozen figure and crossed the Entrance Hall with a pounding heart. That was it. That was all he had. He had tried everything – as several overflowing cabinets in Pringle's office could attest – and this was it. But he wouldn't give up. He couldn't now. Lily would come to her senses – or lose them, as required.

If not, James would look more seriously into bacon.


	4. Just Like a Dream

_I may be a beggar and you may be the queen,_

_And though I may be on a downer, I'm still ready to dream,_

_Though it's three o'clock, the time is just the time it takes for you to talk._

- Whistle for the Choir, The Fratellis

* * *

"Enough," James muttered to himself, shoving his hands into his pockets and wishing for gloves. He huffed steam into the night chill as he stalked across the deserted grounds of Hogwarts. "Snap out of it, Potter. Focus."

He growled with frustration as his glasses fogged up once more. What kind of world was it when you could walk around unseen via cloak but you couldn't get your vision magically corrected? A bloody stupid backwards world, in James's most humble opinion – and it wasn't all that humble, when it came to it.

As he grabbed at his glasses and scraped them against a handful of invisibility cloak, James raised his near-sighted eyes to the sky and felt like howling, which, considering the occasion, was fairly appropriate. The moon hung low and full overhead, a blurry, ominous orb. The others were probably all the way to the Shrieking Shack by now, and James would have been with them if it wasn't for –

"Enough," he repeated, sliding his glasses back into place. James Potter was renowned for being cool on the Quidditch pitch, his game focus second to none. Well, not any more. His reputation had been thoroughly smashed just that afternoon. The Ravenclaw team wasn't even very good, though they unfailingly pulled out a new strategy at every match. By all rights, Gryffindor should have won – _would_ have won, but for –

James scuffed his sneakers into the grass with a very strong urge to kick something. How could he have let this become so bloody ridiculous? He was pining away like some kind of _girl_ – except that the girl in this case seemed much less affected. James, who had been brought up to view girls as the emotional bagpipe quotient of wizardkind, felt distinctly cheated.

The first half of the match had run smoothly, James leading the other Chasers in a neat series of plays that baffled the Ravenclaw Keeper. Every player had kept to the game plan; red and gold looked set to win. And then – and then, well, James had taken his eyes off the Quaffle, hadn't he? He had glanced away for a moment, flicked his eyes towards the cheering stands, and he was caught by stillness, the one unsmiling face in the crowd.

And the roaring from the stands, and the shouts from his teammates, and every sound in the world cut out, and James forgot he was on a broomstick a hundred metres in the air, and his chest ached as he stared straight back into those eyes that shone hard as emeralds. He forgot about the match. He forgot about flying. He even forgot what a Bludger was right up until he received one in the back of the neck.

Unsurprisingly, James had been forced out of the match; apparently it was unwise to fly with neck trauma. He'd put up a fairly decent fight, but the combined force of Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall turned out to be irresistible. They had the advantage, in the end – after all, James was conducting his case from flat on his back on the grass. He couldn't quite remember falling, but he did remember seeing green eyes widen before he lost them.

At least he had the satisfaction of knowing that McGonagall probably regretted her decision to remove him from the match. There had been no replacement Chaser, and the absence of the captain didn't help (if James did say so himself).

He had strained his ears for the match commentary from his bed in the Hospital Wing, but soon wished someone would close the window. Hopeless. Gryffindor lost, of course. It was all James's fault; he would have seen the Bludger coming a mile off if he hadn't been so completely and utterly distracted.

No, scratch that – it was all Evans's fault. How dare she come to the match and sit in the stand – _that stand_ – and look at him like that? Did she even realise where she was sitting?

Lily Evans was infuriating. Despite everything, she hadn't said a single word to James since breakfast on Tuesday. Not one word. Not even a throwaway insult. He had barely managed to elicit one measly scowling glance when he'd offered to carry Stebbins's books to class on Thursday. Being ignored was much worse than the transitory sting of rejection.

In all honesty, James couldn't quite believe she had let him get away with his very public criticism on Tuesday. Of course, _he_ knew that it was all true, but he somehow doubted Lily would feel the same way. He had left the Great Hall having placed his very soul beneath Lily's scuffed up sneakers, and she'd obviously kicked it to the wayside.

Needless to say, James had been in a bad way since Tuesday, and several hours stuck in the Hospital Wing without the ability to move his neck hadn't done much to ease his mood. The others had popped by to offer a gloomy hello – Peter looked especially woebegone – but James had sent them out soon enough. Remus spent enough time in Hospital Wing as it was.

It was a good thing that the match had coincided with a full moon. Planning for the Shrieking Shack excursion gave him something to think about during Madam Pomfrey's rather unsympathetic administration of an acidic potion to his neck. He really shouldn't complain, when it came down to it. Remus faced much worse than this on a monthly basis. Yes, James had much more important things to think about than Evans's hairy heart. Too bad he couldn't focus on them.

He picked up a long stick and jabbed viciously at the Whomping Willow.

"'I like you, Lily,'" he said to himself in singsong falsetto, "'and I'm sure girls like you go for lovesick ultimatums in front of the entire school. Shall we snog again?'"

Upon reflection (and lengthy consultation with the boys), James may have slightly overreacted at breakfast on Tuesday – but surely it shouldn't take so very long for Lily to point this out. Her silence was like torture. James would much prefer to be facing her wand-point than her back. He'd learnt nothing in his lessons all week, and, for the first time in his life, had failed a test in Transfiguration. McGonagall wasn't going to be offering him any ginger nuts this week. James didn't even care. His faith in Lily was crumbling with each and every day she denied him an answer, lie or not.

As he ran at a crouch down the familiar tunnel, James shook his head. He refused to let distraction affect his judgment any further. He was lucky Madam Pomfrey was so good at her job, or he might have been stuck in the Hospital Wing all night. As it was, he'd have to sneak back in early for the final round of neck-healing acid.

Right now, this was where he was needed. He could hear tearing sounds, growling sounds ahead. This, here, was much more important than Quidditch, or even Lily.

"Focus," James said quietly, putting his head down. It was time to think of the others. With a short burst of concentration, he broke into a steady canter, a sudden tranquillity flooding through his body. Human frailties drained away as steady rhythm replaced passion. What was resentment when the pack needed him?

Everything else could wait.

* * *

"Lily," James said, and stopped walking. After a moment's pause, his heart started thudding madly in his chest, and he blinked. "Lily?"

"Potter," she said – and against all odds, it really was Lily. She was sitting in the shadows by the entrance to the Hospital Wing, all pale and wrapped up in a warm blanket. For a second, James had thought fatigue and neck potions had placed a vision in his head.

"What are you doing out here?" James said, suddenly glad that he had left his invisibility cloak in the Shack again.

"Waiting for you," said Lily, standing and wrapping her blanket more tightly around herself. Her voice was quiet, and rather flat. "Only, I thought you'd come out of the Hospital Wing, not into it."

"Oh," said James, and tried to think of something clever to say.

"Where have you been?" said Lily before he could manage it. Her voice was strained. "Shouldn't you be resting your neck?"

James shrugged, dodging the first question. "It's better now, all fixed. Madam Pomfrey has magic fingers, you know. See?" He jerked his head to the side in demonstration, and hissed at the sudden burst of pain.

"Right," said Lily, looking far from impressed.

James, who hadn't been in the best of moods at the start of the conversation, began to feel irritated.

"And what do you care about my neck, anyway? It's nothing to you."

Proper anger began to glow in Lily's face; James felt heartened. A reaction. Emotion.

"That's what you think, is it? That I don't care if you break your neck?"

"Well, yeah, Lily," said James, rubbing one hand into the crick in his neck and wishing for acidic potions. "That is what I think. It's not like you've done much to prove me wrong over the last week. In fact, I was starting to think you'd prefer to do the job yourself."

"Right now I would," said Lily, bunching blankets in white fists. Her eyes shone in the darkness. "How can you say things like that?"

"How can you?" said James, and his voice was too loud in the shadowed corridor, but he couldn't control it. "You haven't said a single word to me until right now, Lily, and I don't even know why you're here. It's three o'clock in the morning, and this is the first sign you've ever given me that you care about the wellbeing or otherwise of my neck."

Lily dropped the blanket, and stepped forward. Her mouth was tight and her eyes were blazing. She looked rather like she wanted to punch James right where the Bludger had struck. She took another step forward, and raised a hand. James flinched pre-emptively. Pale fingers stretched out through the darkness and settled with featherweight softness on the side of James's neck.

After a moment, he remembered how to breathe. James was sure his face was flaming red; there was no way Lily couldn't feel his pulse rocketing through his veins. He controlled what he could, though, and his face remained blank as Lily silently examined his neck.

"You're alright, then," she said finally, dropping her hand. She didn't step back.

"Yeah," said James, meeting Lily's gaze coolly while burning alive inside.

"Idiot," she said, no response required. Very slowly, she raised her gaze from James's neck to his eyes. "I thought that Bludger was going to kill you."

"What a way to go," said James, and stepped even closer to Lily. She breathed in sharply, but didn't back away. Both refused to give up ground. Finally, when he could take it no longer, James brushed his hand along the side of Lily's face, causing her eyes to blink and fall away from his. He frowned, and settled his hand against her burning cheek.

"I want to kiss you again," he whispered, his words prompting startled green eyes to flash up to his. "But not if it means nothing to you, Lily. I won't do that."

"I would never do that," Lily snapped, and that was all the answer James needed. Without a further moment's hesitation, he leant down and pressed his mouth to Lily's scowling lips, kissing her softly until her cheek moved beneath his fingers and she broke into a smile of her own.

"You don't know me at all, James," she murmured into his lips, and shifted her weight without warning, sending them stumbling backwards until James's back hit wall. "You think you do, but you don't."

Blind, deaf and dumb to anything but Lily and the taste and scent and feel of her, James made no attempt to reply. His hands left her cheeks and hesitated, then settled gently into soft, curving waist. Lily pressed closer, pushing her alien softness against him, and it was as unearthly as heaven. Her breath came hot against his face between kisses. James was just beginning to formulate a clever plan of action, involving wheeling Lily around so that _her_ back was against the wall, when Lily pulled away. His hands slipped from her waist, and fell limply to his sides.

"What–" he began rather breathlessly, but Lily was already halfway down the corridor when James managed to push himself from the wall. He made to follow, but Lily turned around and paused, scooping loose hair behind her ears with a rather uncharacteristic smirk on her face.

"Oh yes," she said, lips kiss-swollen and hair a mess. "I almost forgot."

James stared at Lily blankly as she glanced at her watch.

"I'll be seeing you in detention on Friday."

James, flooding with sudden indignation, leapt into action as Lily made to walk away. "Detention! Oi! You're breaking the rules, too, Evans."

"Prefect," she called over her shoulder with a grin.

Admiration fluttered down and joined the singing chorus in James's chest. Lily was as wicked as Sirius, as clever as Remus, as underhanded as Peter in a gobstone match. She thought he didn't know her – well, he did, he really did. He always had. And it looked like Lily finally knew herself.

Grinning dazedly at a portrait of three very disapproving monks, James wandered back towards the Hospital Wing entrance, tripping over Lily's abandoned blanket. He laughed at himself; all traces of his bad mood had vanished. As far as he was concerned, the previous week hadn't happened. His faith in the world was restored.

* * *

**A/N: One more chapter to go, guys! Sorry this one took so long - life is an unforgiving stress pit at the moment. Chapter title from "Just Like Heaven" by The Cure.**


	5. Just Like Heaven

_So give me your hand, and let's jump out the window_

Australia – The Shins

* * *

"Prongs," Sirius said, and his voice was low with worry. "Prongs. Hey. Prongs."

"What's wrong with him?" Peter murmured from across the table. "Is he sick? Is someone dying?"

"Don't do it, mate," said Sirius. "Whatever it is, it's not worth it. Moony, say something."

"We're here for you," said Remus from behind the cover of his textbook. "Don't be afraid to reach out, and so on."

Before Remus had even finished talking, a hand came down and slapped the book away from James.

"Oi," said James, looking up to glare at Sirius, who was now hanging over his side of the table. "I was reading that, you nonce."

"That's a book," said Sirius pointedly. He pointed at the book.

"Yes," said James, feeling a sudden surge of empathy for Remus and his daily book-related taunting – empathy that vanished immediately as he glanced the werewolf's way and saw the smirk on his face. "They have pages. And words, you know, those collections of squiggly lines. I'll fetch Madam Pince for you, she'll explain further."

"Don't even joke about Pincey like that, she'll hear you," hissed Sirius, snapping back round and into his seat. "She has the eyes of a basilisk and the ears of a – a librarian!"

"Yeah, remember what she did to Padfoot last time," Peter chimed in, making a rather ambiguous motion with his hand that the others immediately recognised. There was a collective flinch around the table.

"And that," said Sirius shakily, "is just one of the reasons why a normal, sane-type person tries to avoid the library." He grabbed James's book from the table and inspected its mouldy spine. "_Transfiguration for Swots and Scholars_. Prongs, you're practically McGonagall's pet puffskein. Why on earth are you wasting your time on this reading business?"

"I failed the test last week," said James, and Remus actually looked up from his book. "Yeah, it's true. Despite my ravishing good looks, I'm only human. Take me off your marble pedestal, peasants."

"When's the re-sit?" asked Peter, well-versed in such matters.

"This afternoon. Six o'clock, to be precise. Hence the 'reading business', you twat," said James, grabbing the book off Sirius with all the ease of a rather excellent Quidditch player.

"Speaking of 'six o-clock'," Remus muttered, nodding behind James, who turned in what would have appeared a casual manner had his action not been synchronised with both Sirius and Peter. It was Lily, Lily looking like Venus in her rumpled school robes and slight frown. She was half-in, half-out the library door, glancing about as if looking for someone.

James smoothly averted his eyes as Lily saw him. He'd been playing it cool since three o'clock on Sunday morning; let the lioness get her taste of the hunt, that was his new motto. While his heart and mind might have been high as a Hufflepuff in Honeydukes, James was determined to preserve a scrap of dignity. He had decided to let Lily make the next move.

It was also fairly sweet revenge for the past week (not that this motive could _ever_ be assigned to the new non-arrogant toerag James).

"She's coming this way," said Sirius quite loudly, obviously caught up in shock. "Why would she do that? She's not Pincey's new lackey, is she?"

"That," said Remus with a gesture to his 'library monitor' badge, "would be me, idiot. And just so you know, I have full access to Madam Pince's catalogue, so shut up. Hi, Lily."

"Evans," said Sirius distractedly, eyes fixed on Remus's badge. "I think this counts as treason, Moony. More so than the Prefecting business, and you know how I feel about that."

"Hi," said Lily, standing a bit awkwardly above them all and fiddling with her Prefect badge. James glanced up from the random page of his book that he was pretending to peruse, and felt his heart stutter in his chest at the sight of Lily's slightly pink face. Outwardly, he sat a little straighter in his chair and offered her a brief smile.

"What are you doing here?" said Sirius rather rudely. James kicked him under the seat, but really, it was his own fault. He hadn't told the others anything about Sunday, and for all they knew, he was still an emotional wreck who was to be protected from his breakfast.

Sirius leaned back in his chair and sent a wounded look James's way. "What'd you kick me for? It was a valid question."

Lily cleared her throat. "Shut it, Black. I'm sure Madam Pince would be very interested to know just what you did with those Herbology textbooks last year."

"There's my fiery redhead," said James with enthusiasm, flinging all plans to play it cool aside.

Heads swivelled around to Lily to witness her inevitable explosion of feminist, anti-Potter ire, but all were sadly disappointed. She ducked her head and actually smiled.

"Wait a minute," said Sirius, climbing to his feet. "Where's the back-up, Prongs? Wormtail? Show her your library monitor badge, Moony!"

"We've got Charms next, don't we?" said Lily to James, completely ignoring the others.

He nodded, and then stood up next moment, taking the hint. "Want to head there now?"

Lily allowed him to sling her heavy book bag over his shoulder, and James ushered her in front. Just as she was disappearing through the door, James spun around and gave his staring friends two thumbs up, prompting Sirius to launch into a catcall and Madam Pince to storm his way. James hurriedly slipped out the door and caught up with Lily.

"They hate me," said Lily with a bit of a grin. "Well, Sirius does. Remus is lovely, I don't understand why he hangs out with you lot."

"Sirius respects you," James corrected. "And I'm not sure how I should feel about you calling Moony 'lovely'."

Lily turned slightly and gave him a measuring look. Her face broke into a cheeky grin as she swung back, though she tried to hide it. "He's so very sweet, James. A gentleman. I'm sure you wouldn't understand."

"Wouldn't I?" said James darkly, jealousy having well and truly made itself at home. Obviously he was being teased, but he never could help himself. "So very sweet, is he?"

"Mm," said Lily, tossing her thick red hair and casting a mischievous glance in James's direction. "Must be all that chocolate."

James let Lily walk a few paces ahead, and then stopped entirely with a pained gasp. He clasped one hand to his neck and didn't have to wait for long. Lily turned around immediately, smile falling away with an exclamation.

"What's wrong? Does it hurt?"

James made a show of massaging his neck, grimacing as his fingers pressed against the large bludger-shaped bruise.

"Let me see," Lily commanded, gentle fingers reaching up to skim against his skin. As she leaned closer to inspect the bruise, James turned his head and kissed her, laughing against her lips.

"Mmph!" Lily protested, hands flying away only to be grabbed by James. She lingered a moment longer in the kiss, then pulled back and glared right at James's grinning face. "I thought you were in pain, you prat."

James leant back with a distracted frown. "It does twinge a little. Do you think I should eat some chocolate? Maybe then I could be as sweet as Remus." He beamed down at Lily as her glare flickered to a smile.

"You're about as sweet as Stebbins," growled Lily, tugging her hands away and stalking off down the corridor towards Charms.

"Don't you say a word against Stebbins," James called, picking up her bookbag and trotting after her. "I'll have you know he's a very decent fellow. Pleasant. Doesn't say much, but he doesn't have to."

"I wish you didn't say much," said Lily with false anger in her voice as she reached the Charms classroom and leant back against the door.

"What fun would that be?" said James, and dropped her bag to the floor. Without waiting for Lily's scathing response, he walked over and took one of those soft hands in his. He gazed at it, gently brushing her palm with his thumb. The ever-present urge to bicker and blather fell away.

"James?" Lily said softly, and he raised his eyes and met her gaze. "I–" she began, then shook her head with a smile. "Never mind," she said, and brought her other hand round to his neck, leaning in for a kiss that was just like heaven.

When Flitwick interrupted this scene with a startled squeak, James couldn't even remember what embarrassment felt like.

"Miss Evans!" said Flitwick, eyes wide as dragon eggs. "Mr Potter! What is the meaning of this?"

"What can I say, Professor?" said Lily in an unexpectedly faraway voice. "He fell for my charms."

James snorted with laughter, and Lily joined in. They stumbled away from the door and poor Flitwick and made a fast pace down the corridors until they were outside in the grounds and free to collapse on the grass.

"I would never–" James began, ribs aching, "never ever have thought that such a hideous joke would come from you!"

Lily reached over and smacked his arm, and then they both lay back against the lawn and looked out to the lake.

"For a Prefect, you seem rather determined to make me do badly in school," said James, groping out along the grass until he found Lily's hand.

"What do you mean?"

"I've got to re-sit the Transfiguration test in three hours. I should be studying, by all rights."

"So should I," said Lily, and giggled as James's head snapped around in surprise. "I failed it, too. I couldn't concentrate last week, for some reason."

"You know," said James, reclining back against the grass, "I have to blame myself. I should have forced you into those tutoring sessions."

"We can start on Friday," said Lily, "as we'll have all that time together in detention."

James shut his eyes against the bright afternoon light and smiled to himself. "I could think of better things to do, couldn't you?" When Lily slapped at his hand, his smile only widened. "I mean, there are all those toilets to clean, Evans. I hope I didn't get you excited."

"You haven't changed at all, Potter," said Lily. "I've half a mind to go back to Charms and take it up with Stebbins. I'll do it, you know." Her hand curled into James's.

"You'd never do that," said James. "You like me too much, admit it."

She didn't admit to anything, of course, but she didn't have to. It was obvious – to him, to Flitwick, and to Lily. And James could happily live the rest of his life being hit by bludgers as long as Lily was there to tease.

* * *

_And if a double-decker bus crashes into us,_

_To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die._

_And if a ten-ton truck kills the both of us,_

_To die by your side, well, the pleasure, the privilege is mine._

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out – The Smiths

* * *

**A/N: And that is the end! This story's finished, and I'm thrilled if you've read the whole thing. I'd love to hear what you thought of it. Cheers!**


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